Half a Man
by starg8fans
Summary: Tag to 'Outcast'. His visit to earth and the fight he was in has unforeseen consequences for Ronon. Dr. Keller and the team pull together to help him through the difficult recovery. Ronon whump, team bonding. No ship.
1. What the Scanner Didn't Show

What the Scanner didn't show

Dr. Jennifer Keller awoke from a persistent crackling noise. Blindly, she groped for her comm piece and stuck it into her ear.

"Yes?" she said sleepily.

"Doc?"

"Ronon?" Fully awake now, Jennifer sat up in bed. "What's up?"

"I… I think there's something wrong."

A look at the clock told her it was almost 5 in the morning. Alarm bells went off in Jennifer's head. This was so unlike him.

"What's the problem?"

"You'd better see for yourself."

"Okay, I'll meet you in the infirmary in five minutes."

"Actually, I need you to come to my quarters."

This was getting more and more mysterious. And she didn't like his tone of voice, either. She thought she could detect a suppressed note of panic.

"Sure. I'll be right there."

A few minutes later, Jennifer stood outside Ronon's room, a first aid kit over her shoulder. She used her CMO code to unlock the door, and walked inside.

The room was almost dark, only a soft light coming from an ambient source. As she moved closer, Jennifer was surprised to see that Ronon looked quite normal lying on the bed - except for the fact he was very pale, his expression - haunted. She had expected him to be flushed with fever or maybe covered in spots.

Putting her bag down on the floor, she sat down next to him, putting a hand on his forehead.

"Tell me what's wrong," she said, noting that he was definitely not running a fever.

"I can't move my legs."

"What?"

"I can't move my legs," Ronon repeated, a trace of rising panic in his voice again.

Jennifer had not performed the post mission checkup on him that afternoon because she had been removing a burst appendix at the time... Could her staff have overlooked something?

"Who checked you through when you returned from earth today?'

"Don't know. Never saw her before. Short, chubby, red hair?"

That would be the nurse practitioner who had arrived on the 'Daedalus' only a few days earlier. Jennifer cursed herself for not following up on that day's checkups. But she had been really busy…

"Tell me what happened on the mission. I heard you were in a fight?"

The hint of a smile flashed over Ronon's pale face.

"I got thrown around pretty good by a Replicator."

Jennifer frowned. "Could you specify 'thrown around' for me?"

Ronon recounted the events in the storage building. Jennifer's heart sank when she heard how he had been thrown across the room, landing on the concrete floor.

Tapping her earpiece, she contacted the infirmary and ordered a gurney to be brought to Ronon's quarters. As she got up from the bed, Ronon grabbed her wrist like a drowning man.

"What's wrong with me, Doc?"

Trying to rephrase her diagnosis into simple terms, Jennifer replied "I'm afraid you hurt your back when you hit the floor. Something, probably a cracked bone, is putting pressure on the nerves in your spine, and that's why you can't feel your lower limbs."

"But it will go away again, won't it?"

Taking a deep breath and meeting his fearful gaze, Jennifer decided to tell him the truth.

"I can't tell yet."

Pouring over the results from the scanner, Jennifer was startled when the door to her office opened. Sheppard and Teyla walked in.

"We came as soon as we heard," John said. "How is he?"

"I found the cause for his paralysis," Jennifer replied. "Look here."

She pointed to an area of the scan that showed Ronon's lower back.

"See this white line? It's a hairline fracture in his upper lumbar vertebra. Damage to these vertebrae is very unusual, since they are to a large extent protected by the pelvis. This plus the fact that the gap was infinitesimal was the reason why we didn't notice it on the regular post mission scan yesterday. It was only when we increased the resolution four times and checked every vertebra individually that we found the evidence on yesterday's pictures."

"So can you fix it?"

"I'm prepping Ronon for surgery as we speak, Colonel. While asleep, he must have made a move that pulled the broken parts out of alignment, and now the edge is exerting pressure on his spinal cord, causing a paralysis to his lower limbs."

"But he'll be okay once you fix this?"

Jennifer sighed, looking at Teyla who had not yet said a word.

"I can only assess the damage that has been done during the operation. Everything depends on whether it's really just pressure, or if the nerves have been damaged or even severed." She saw Teyla draw a deep breath.

"Depending on the result, I will be able to tell you if this paralysis is temporary or permanent."

Time seemed to stand still as John paced the waiting area outside the operating room. Teyla was sitting in a chair, her hands folded over her swollen belly.

They both turned around when they heard footsteps approaching almost at a run. Then Rodney burst into the room.

"Just got back from M7G-677," he exclaimed. "What happened? Is it true that he's…?"

"Ronon is in surgery right now, Rodney," Teyla replied. "We should know more after the operation."

"We ran into a Replicator who had gotten loose on earth," Sheppard explained. "That thing threw Ronon across the room, and in the process he cracked one of his vertebrae."

McKay looked form one to the other. "So he's really…"

"He has lost all feeling in his legs," Teyla explained. When she saw Rodney's shocked expression, she added quickly, " We hope that it will be only temporary."

When Jennifer came out of the operating room, Ronon's three team mates were sitting next to each other on a bed. The men jumped to their feet when they saw her. Teyla remained sitting, but Jennifer saw the knuckles whiten on her clenched fists.

"What's the verdict, Doc?" John asked.

"I have good news and bad news," Jennifer began. "The good news is that no parts of the spinal cord have been severed. I have realigned the pieces of the vertebra and wired them together to stabilize them. However, some of the nerves in his spinal cord have been subjected to intense pressure for several hours. At the moment, I cannot say whether these nerves will fully recover or if some of the damage that was done is irreparable."

"But surely there's some sort of treatment, something that will get him back on his feet," John insisted.

"Of course, we will begin a regime of physical therapy coupled with low-current electrical stimulation of the nerves as soon as Ronon has recovered from the surgery. But I won't lie to you. The outcome is completely unknown."

Teyla got up off the bed as well now. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

Jennifer nodded. "The cooperation and determination of the patient is crucial to the success of the treatment. If he believes that he can get well again, that will go a long way towards a cure. We've seen miracles happen in cases that were a lot worse than his, just because the patients refused to give up on themselves."

"Don't worry, Doc, he'll get all the help he needs," John assured her, and Teyla and even Rodney nodded in agreement.

"When can we see him?" Teyla asked.

"I will keep him sedated for the next 24 hours. Come back tomorrow at this time."

When the team returned the next morning a very tired Doc Keller awaited them. You could tell that she had hardly slept the night before.

"I'm glad you're here," she told the team. "I hope you can boost his spirits. Ronon has been totally unresponsive to anything we've said. Maybe you can get through to him."

Teyla cocked an eyebrow. "That does not sound like him at all."

Jennifer nodded. "I know. There must be some cause for his depressed state - I mean apart from his physical condition - but he won't even talk to me or my staff."

John hated the post-op room. Too many monitors, dials, beeping gadgets, IV lines… And in the middle of all this was Ronon. His eyes were closed, and he gave no indication that he had heard them enter.

Teyla and Rodney looked at him expectantly, so John approached the bed and cleared his throat.

"Hey there, Big Guy," he said finally. "You really had us worried there for a while."

There was no response.

"Come on, I know this sucks, but the Doc says with the proper treatment and exercise chances are excellent that you'll be as good as new in no time."

John thought he detected a flicker of emotion on the stony features, so he went on.

"It may take a while, but we're a team. We'll see this thing through - together."

When there was still no reaction, John cast a 'why-don't-you-help-me-out-here' look at Teyla. She moved to the other side of the bed immediately, and took Ronon's big hand in hers.

"I realize this is a difficult time for you. But you are strong in body and in mind, and Dr. Keller told us this is the key to a full recovery. This is only a temporary condition, and you…"

"I'm dead."

Teyla was taken aback by the comment for a moment, but at least this was a reaction - albeit the wrong one.

"No, you are not. What makes you say that?"

Ronon opened his eyes and turned his head towards Teyla.

"I had a good friend. He fell off a roof during a Wraith attack. Same thing. Couldn't move his legs, then his arms, then his head… in the end he couldn't even breathe on his own. I was there when he died."

"Now wait a minute," John interrupted, "your case is completely different. And no offense, but our medical equipment and expertise is quite a bit more advanced than anything you had on Sateda."

"Fine," Ronon growled. "So I don't die. But with useless legs, I'll still be only half a man."

"Now see here," John tried to reason with him. "Doc Keller fixed your back, and she says the nerves are okay. There's just some damage from the pressure, but once that heals you will walk again."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"No, I'm not. You should know me by now." John leaned over Ronon's bed, looking down at his friend. "Have I ever steered you wrong?"

Very slightly, Ronon shook his head.

"So trust me. You'll be kicking my butt in another sparring match in no time."

After a short pause, Ronon's drawn features relaxed, and he nodded at John. The team breathed a sigh of relief. Just at that moment, Jennifer Keller entered.

"I'm afraid this is all the time I can allow you with him. Ronon still needs a lot of rest."

"We will return soon," Teyla assured the Satedan, squeezing his hand one more time before letting go.

While Jennifer checked Ronon's IVs and monitors, team Sheppard filed out. They were quietly talking among themselves when Jennifer joined them. There was a smile on her tired face.

"Whatever you told him, it's made a lot of difference. He appears cautiously optimistic now, and is ready to cooperate. Thank you all."

"No problem, Doc, it's what we do," John answered. "When are you planning on starting his treatment?"

"I'd like to start with light physical therapy as soon as possible. First thing tomorrow I will give him a sensory test. Hopefully, some feeling will have returned, even if the use of his legs is still a way in the future."

"We will be checking on Ronon regularly," Teyla promised.

"Yeah," John added, "and if you need anything else from us, just let us know.


	2. A Woman's Touch

A Woman's Touch

The following day after breakfast, John and Teyla went by the infirmary to check on Ronon's progress. They had to wait a little for Dr. Keller, who was busy with another patient. When she finally arrived, Sheppard noted the concern on her face, and cut straight to the quick, as usual.

"What went wrong, Doc?"

Jennifer sighed. "The sensory tests this morning were negative. Meaning that Ronon did not feel any of the stimulations we applied to his lower limbs, including pin pricks."

"And that's… bad," John surmised.

"It can mean everything or nothing. That's why cases involving spinal trauma are so difficult." Dr. Keller shrugged. "Not to mention the fact that Ronon's physiology is very close, but not identical to that of humans from Earth. I know from earlier testing that his pain threshold is much higher than ours, that could have something to do with the result of this morning's tests. But I cannot say for sure." A slight smile crossed her tired face. "How can you tell what's normal for an alien?"

"But you will still proceed with the treatments you mentioned yesterday?" Teyla enquired.

"Well, I was planning to, but the patient is very… uncooperative again. I think the emotional trauma of seeing his friend die still affects him deeply. I don't know how he managed it, but he succeeded to raise himself far enough during the examination this morning to see me stick a needle in his thigh, and when he didn't feel anything he… I don't want to say 'freaked', it was much more subtle than that. But he has withdrawn into his shell again, and…"

A loud crashing noise interrupted Jennifer. Sharing a worried look, the three of them ran towards Ronon's room, Teyla lagging behind due to her bulk - but not much.

A tall, gangly young man with a mass of curly black hair was slowly backing out of the door, his hands raised in defense. He bumped into Shep, and whirled around with a gasp of alarm. His narrow face was white with shock, and panic flickered in his eyes.

"Attila, what's wrong?" Dr. Keller asked.

John had to suppress a smile. For sure, this frightened chap in front of him did not live up to the terrifying reputation of his Hun namesake.

"He is crazy, that one," Attila stammered. John couldn't place the accent, but it sounded Eastern European. "He will not let me touch him. And when I try, he threw a water bottle at me!"

Teyla and John shared a look. No matter how serious his condition was, Ronon was still Ronon.

Dr. Keller opened her mouth, but Attila interrupted her.

"No, say nothing. I will not go back again. I value my life more highly. My duty here does not include to treat - madmen." And without another word, he turned and stalked away.

"Okay, so much for physiotherapy," Jennifer sighed.

"You must have somebody else who could do it," John suggested. "This guy seemed a bit too… nervous for the job."

"Ronon has never found it easy to have people close to him he did not know," Teyla injected. She turned to Jennifer. "If the exercises do not too require a specific expertise, maybe you could instruct me in how to administer them?" She smiled. "I am certain he would not throw anything at me."

"That could be a solution," Dr. Keller said thoughtfully. "The initial moves are not hard to learn. They serve mainly to keep the muscles from stiffening, and to help them 'remember' what motion is like."

"But look here, Ronon's a big guy, and heavy and Teyla is… I mean in her condition…" John's voice trailed off as he saw the daggers Teyla's eyes were shooting at him.

"I am pregnant, John, not sick," she said very clearly. "And I have been exercising regularly and thoroughly to keep up my strength."

Jennifer chimed in. "I can attest to that. Athosian women are amazing. I doubt many of our female marines could have kept up with the regime she set for herself."

Under this double female onslaught, John could only relent. "Fine. Do it. Heck, anything that helps get him back on his feet again is alright with me."

Dr. Keller nodded. "Good. Come with me, Teyla, I will explain what you need to do."

Teyla had a sense of déja vu when she entered Ronon's sickroom. The same sights, the same sounds, the same stony, remote figure on the bed. Dr. Keller had given her a small, portable electrotherapy device with dials and two cushioned paddles, which Teyla put on the bedside table. Then she turned to address the patient.

"You put quite a fright into that poor man," she said reproachfully. "Was that really necessary?"

Again, as the day before, there was no reply. Undaunted, Teyla continued.

"By the way, his name is Attila. Colonel Sheppard explained to me that he was named after a famous warrior on Earth. He found this coincidence quite humorous."

Ronon snorted. Glad about the reaction, Teyla pushed on.

"This man was only trying to help you."

"He wouldn't leave me alone."

"Of course he would not, and neither will I or Colonel Sheppard or Rodney or Dr. Keller or…"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Ronon interrupted, finally looking at her. "Why did they send you?"

"Nobody sent me," Teyla shot back. "It was my idea to come."

Ronon frowned. "And if I know you, you won't be leaving anytime soon."

"Correct." Teyla smiled her most disarming smile. "I have a series of physical therapy exercises and low voltage stimulation to perform on you. And I intend to see them through. So unless you prefer to throw something at me, I suggest we begin. I need to return to my own exercise regime, and I do not like to delay it too long."

Ronon studied her face as if he saw it for the first time.

"Why are you wasting your time with me?" he asked. "It's hopeless. I can't feel a thing down there."

Teyla met his gaze squarely. "I cannot say what will or will not happen. And I will not make false promises to raise your hopes. But I know one thing. This treatment cannot harm you. But it may prove beneficial. That's all I need to know."

After a moment, Ronon nodded. "Then it's good enough for me, too," he said. And then he added, in what was little more than a whisper, "Thank you, Teyla."


	3. Brain over Brawn

Brawn and Brain

When Rodney turned away from the food line and scanned the mess hall in search of a seat, he almost did a double- take. At one of the tables, Ronon sat on his own in a wheelchair, staring morosely at the food on his tray. It had been almost a week now since the therapy sessions started, but progress was slow and there appeared no change in his condition. Rodney hesitated for a moment. God, everybody - including himself - knew he sucked at this interpersonal stuff. But Ronon looked so lonely, so… Squaring his shoulders, McKay headed over to him.

Plunking down his tray and settling into a chair across form his teammate, Rodney cast an approving eye at Ronon's plate.

"I see you picked meatballs, too. I'm very partial to meatballs myself. Although you never really know what they put into them…"

His laugh sounded fake even to his ears, and the glare that was Ronon's response quickly turned it into a cough.

"Anyway… Good to see you up and about."

Ronon's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean 'up'?" he growled.

Rodney almost choked on his mashed potatoes, and cursed himself for his decision to join the Satedan. Heck, even sitting with Zelenka would have been preferable to this. He put down his fork.

"Oh no, I was just… Look, I'm sorry. It's not my nature to be empathic and supportive. Now that I think about it, I guess I'd better go sit somewhere else. "If I stay I'd probably put my foot in even deeper," he almost added, but decided against it.

McKay began to rise, but Ronon stopped him.

"Stay," he said. "I'm not very good company right now. But I'm glad you're here."

Surprised, Rodney sank back into his seat. That was something he didn't get to hear every day.

"Okay," he said. "But only if you start eating something." Pointing at Ronon's untouched plate, he continued, "It's not like you to let your food get cold."

"I'm not really hungry."

"Not burning any calories, huh?" Rodney pulled a face. "Here I go again," he thought.

But Ronon was only looking at him through half closed eyes.

"You may be right," he said. "I've never been tied down this long in my life." He balled his fists. "I miss running. And walking... and fighting. What good am I… like this?"

Rodney put down his fork, and pointed his finger at Ronon.

"See, that's your problem. You're only thinking of physical activity as exercise. But brawn is only one part of a person, my friend. Brain is the other. And now that you can't move as much as you want to, maybe this is the time to get started on exercising your brain power."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look, if I remember correctly, you once said something about wanting to learn about science. This is the perfect opportunity. You got plenty of time on your hands, so make the most of it."

The look he received was more than skeptical. "And who would teach me?"

Rodney leaned back in his chair, visibly squirming. "Well… I thought… I could… maybe…"

"You?" A glint of amusement sparkled in Ronon's eyes. "You would waste your precious time on a caveman?"

"How did you… no, don't answer that. Look, this is a nickname, okay? Friends have nicknames for each other. It's actually a sign of real affection. Nonono, I don't mean affection… you know, not in that sense, I mean… I mean when I use that phrase I'm not implying that you are a caveman… although, actually when we first met you were living in a…. but that's neither here nor there…"

Finally running out of air Rodney stopped for a deep breath, and decided to try for a new start.

"Look. For the record? I've seen you on our missions, and I know there's a very capable head sitting on your shoulders. Scientifically untrained, but sharp enough. I'm sure I you would grasp the basics of physics in no time."

A smug smile settled on Rodney's features. "Especially when you consider that your teacher will be the best there is." He pointed both thumbs at his own chest. "Me."

"You do know that modesty is a virtue, don't you, McKay?"

John Sheppard had suddenly appeared at their table. Ignoring Rodney's sputtering, he turned to Ronon.

"Time for your therapy, Big Guy. You don't wanna let Teyla wait, or she might add something nasty to your program."

He looked at Ronon's untouched plate.

"Look, you can't go on like this."

"I…"

"I know. You're not hungry. Just like yesterday. And the day before. Well, I say you just have to force yourself."

"I was gonna say, I'll grab a sandwich on the way out. Or better two." Ronon grinned at Rodney. "Tuna, I reckon. Fish is brain food, right?"

Reveling in John's thunderstruck expression, Rodney gave Ronon a thumbs up, the smug smile back on his face.

"Right. And unless a real emergency hits the city…" He checked his watch. "… I will see you in the infirmary around 1700 for our first lesson?"

"Okay."

John was looking from one to the other.

"Brain food? Lesson? What did I miss here?"

"Oh, it's just the old brain over brawn thing," Rodney answered with an airy wave of his hand.

"That's right," Ronon smirked. Then he pointed at the food line. "About that tuna sandwich?"

Shaking his head, Shep grabbed the handles of the wheel chair, and pulled it away from the table.

"Sure. You got it."


	4. Strikeout

_**Strikeout**_

Ronon was rapidly decimating the second tuna sandwich while John pushed him down the hallway to the transporter. Seeing the Satedan licking his fingers clean, John shook his head.

"Good thing I'm pushing you. With all that mayo on your fingers you couldn't get a good grip on the wheels."

Ronon twisted around, looking up at John.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm just saying that with that grease on your hands you wouldn't get any traction on the wheel guides."

Ronon leaned over and inspected the metal circles attached to the wheels.

"These are for pushing yourself?"

"Of course, what did you think?"

"I didn't know."

"You didn't have wheelchairs on Sateda?"

"We did. But only in hospitals. They were made from wood and very heavy. And they had four wheels."

"Sounds almost like a pram to me."

"What's a…"

"Never mind," John said hastily. He didn't relish the reaction he would get if he told Ronon his native wheelchairs reminded him of baby carriages. "More importantly, you need to know that with these things you're self sufficient. By propelling these guides forward, you can move the chair yourself."

When he saw Ronon grab the guides, he added quickly, "But not yet. Dr. Keller said your spine isn't strong enough. That's why I am doing the nanny thing here."

"But isn't a nanny…"

"Still, I'm sure with the way you're improving, you'll be whizzing around on this thing in no time."

There was no reply. What did he say now? Damn, he'd spoken too quickly without considering his words, but he had been trying to distract Ronon. John sighed. Dealing with the patient was tricky at the moment. You never knew what would send him back into a huff again.

"Buddy? What is it?"

Ronon's voice shook with emotion (fear? anger? John couldn't tell) when he replied, "How can you talk about improving. I still can't move or even feel a thing."

'_Okay, here we go again,' _John sighed inwardly.

Trying to hang on to his patience, he said, "These things take time."

"It's been a week already. Shouldn't there be at least some change?"

"No, it's been ONLY a week. And you just started on stage 2 of your exercises yesterday." Trying to change the subject, John offered, "While you have your therapy session with Teyla, I'll talk to Dr. Keller. And if she gives you the green light, I'll show you how to get around in these chairs. You may not realize it, but you're talking to an expert here. After a particularly nasty helicopter crash, I once was in one of these things for months."

"No thanks," was the gruff reply. "I don't plan to be stuck in a wheelchair forever. So why learn?"

"That's not why I suggested this." John's patience was really wearing thin now, and he was glad that they had arrived at the transporter that would take them straight to the infirmary. He was at the point where he might say something soon that he would regret later.

When they left the transporter, John felt a pang of regret for Teyla. He was quite sure that due to him, her session with the patient would be a tricky one that day.

That's why he was not surprised when Teyla came to find him in his office late that afternoon.

"Colonel, did anything happen this morning?"

Feigning innocence, John looked at her quizzically. "Why?"

"I found Ronon's behavior today far from normal. In the week that I have assisted in his treatment now, I have never seen..."

John hung his head and held up his hands.

"Okay, I admit it. Guilty as charged. I said something stupid today, without realizing it. I'm sorry."

Teyla cocked an eyebrow at him.

"You?" she asked, surprised. "I didn't know you had anything to do with it."

"Look," John said, "I was afraid he would be unresponsive in therapy today. I said something about teaching him how to use a wheelchair, and he took it to mean that he would be stuck in one for the rest of his life."

Teyla stared at him, her eyes wide in surprise. John felt like a kid in the principal's office.

"I know, I should have known better, but I swear…"

"I have no idea what you are talking about. I am referring to the fact that Dr. McKay showed up in the infirmary today, and that as we speak he and Ronon are pouring over models and diagrams."

John was dumbstruck. "McKay? Showing Ronon... _diagrams_?"

Teyla nodded. "I was just as surprised as you are, but Rodney and Ronon are - or at least pretend to be - too engrossed in their studies to answer any questions. So I thought I would ask you."

John snapped his fingers, unwittingly doing a very good Rodney McKay impression

"The cafeteria! The two of them had lunch today. And Rodney said something about meeting Ronon at 5 for a lesson." Scratching his head, he continued, "If I didn't know better, I'd say Rodney is trying to teach him science."

A radiant smile lit up Teyla's face. "That must be what he is doing. Since Ronon's body is not fully functional at present, Rodney is attempting to improve his cognitive skills."

"Brain over brawn," John muttered.

"I'm sorry?"

"Just an expression. Something along the lines of 'intellect is more important than muscles'."

"I see," Teyla replied. "Well, we all try to support Ronon in our own ways and to our own abilities. And amazingly, it appears that Dr. McKay has just found his very own approach."

With a smile and a nod of the head, she turned around and left his room. John looked after her with a sinking heart.

'_Yeah,' _he thought. _'That makes two of you. It's only me who struck out so far.'_


	5. Shooting Hoops

Shooting hoops

A few days later, Dr. Keller came to see John.

"Colonel, you mentioned that if I needed any help with Ronon I could turn to you," she began.

"That's right," John answered.

"I have a request now. We will begin stage 3 of the exercises tomorrow. This involves trying to get Ronon to 'walk' while supporting himself on two horizontal bars. Although he won't be able to actually move his legs, the attempt alone sends the command to take a step to the brain via the nerves, which stimulates them, and helps them remember what they are supposed to do."

John nodded. "Makes sense to me."

"Good. Now obviously, for a man of Ronon's height and build this exercise requires significant upper body strength, but over the last ten days these muscles have been sadly neglected due to the fact that I could not allow him to put too much strain on his back. But at this stage, I believe it is safe for him to engage in some sport."

John looked at the young woman skeptically. "What kind of sport? And where do I come in?"

"From your medical records I know that you were once handicapped in a similar way for several months. And I know you became a very accomplished wheelchair basketball player during that time."

She stopped when she saw John's horrified expression.

"I'm sorry if what I said brought back painful memories," Jennifer said.

"No, no it's not that. Although painful is the right word…" John hesitated. "It's just that I already mentioned teaching Ronon how to use a wheelchair, and it didn't go down well at all. So I'm afraid if I approached him again, he would not take kindly to the idea."

"I'm not so sure about that. I still think it's worth a try," Jennifer insisted. "You are not suggesting the use of a wheelchair for mobility, but as an exercise instrument. I'm pretty sure he's noticed in today's therapy session that he's lost muscle strength and tone through inactivity, so he should be ready to try something to counteract that."

With a sigh, John relented. "Okay, Doc, I'll talk to him tonight."

Ronon was sitting up in bed, watching TV when John knocked on his door. Waving his team leader in, he pointed at a bowl of popcorn in his lap.

"Guess you smelled this and couldn't stay away," he suggested, cramming a handful of popped kernels into his mouth.

"You're right, and I even brought a movie to go with it," John replied, holding up a VHS cassette.

"Really?" Ronon asked, still chewing. After swallowing, he continued, "What kind of movie?"

"Actually, it's a sports tape," John said, walking over to the TV set, and sliding the cassette into the appropriate slot.

"Sports?" Ronon said dismissively. "Not more 'Blades of Glory', I hope?"

"No, nothing like that." John hit 'Play', and turned around to watch his friend's reaction. The film started in the middle of a wheelchair basketball game. Flashing chrome, squealing tires, rapid passes, high fives when a shot hit its mark - John knew every second of the tape by heart. With concern, he saw his the Satedan's face cloud over, his brow furrow. But just when Ronon opened his mouth, ready to vent his anger at Sheppard, something made him stop.

"Hold it," he said. "Go back a bit, and freeze the frame."

John did as he was told. The flickering screen froze on a young, dark haired man who was just expertly maneuvering his wheelchair around a defensive player of the opposite team, the ball sitting in his lap.

Ronon looked at John. "That's you," he said.

John nodded. "I told you I was in one of those things for a long time. My leg got almost torn off in the crash, and I was not allowed to put any weight on it for months."

"But… you knew you'd walk again, why did you learn to do that?"

"Because it was too boring just sitting or lying around all the time. Because it's an exciting, highly competitive sport. And most of all because I wanted to be in good shape when I would finally get out of the chair again."

Their eyes met. "Three good reasons," Ronon admitted.

"That's right. So if you want, I'll teach you."

Ronon looked away, back at the TV. "Lemme see the rest," he said.

The 'frozen' John on the TV screen continued his offensive, and crowned it with a masterful shot from the 3-point line, that danced only briefly on the edge of the hoop, and fell through the net mere seconds before a siren signaled the end of the game. Gleefully, John spun his wheelchair in a few tight circles, and rocked it on its rear wheels while his team came to congratulate him.

John turned the player off, and turned to Ronon.

"So? You game?"

This time, there was no hesitation. "Count me in."

The next day saw Sheppard and Ronon in wheelchairs on the city's basketball court. John handed his friend a pair of supple leather gloves.

"You'll need these," he said. "You get callouses after a while, but at first the friction on the metal will really blister up your palms and fingers. Plus it keeps your hands from slipping in case they're wet or sweaty."

Obediently, Ronon pulled on the gloves. Then he grabbed the metal guides, and pushed his chair a few feet ahead.

"That's right," John encouraged him. "Try and get a feel for it."

It didn't take long for Ronon to figure out the basics. He mastered starting and stopping, turning and reversing. Eager for more, he wanted to continue past the half hour that had been set aside, but John wouldn't allow it.

"There's no need to overdo it. And I'm sure Dr. Keller will find something interesting to do with needles for my next checkup if I bring you back in worse shape than you left her."

"But I want you to show me that twirling move," Ronon persisted.

"Yeah, that's a cool one," John agreed, but still shook his head. "Tomorrow," he said.

When John came to the infirmary the next morning to pick up Ronon for their training, he was told that his friend had already left. It wasn't hard to figure out where to find him. And sure enough, the Satedan was waiting for him in the basketball court. Although, waiting wasn't quite the right term. He had procured some construction cones from God-knows-where, and had set them up in a straight line. Ronon was practicing his slalom skills when the Colonel entered, but stopped and did a 3-point turn when he heard the door.

"Almost thought you'd stood me up," Ronon declared.

John dropped into his own chair that was sitting by the door, and adjusted the footrests.

"My thoughts exactly when I didn't find you in the infirmary," he countered. "How long have you been here?"

"Just a couple of minutes."

Noticing the beads of sweat that were beginning to form at Ronon's hairline, John doubted that this was true. But on the other hand, he had not seen his friend so upbeat and enthusiastic for a long time, so he decided not to dampen his spirit.

Still, something a little less exhausting than racing around cones was probably a good idea.

"So," John said, "you wanna learn to spin?"

"Sure," Ronon replied, and rolled over to where John was standing.

"Okay. The trick is to turn one wheel forward and the other wheel backward. Evenly. That way the chair rotates on the spot."

John demonstrated this. Slowly.

"Now you try."

Again, Ronon caught on almost instantly. The two of them spun and twisted until they grew dizzy, so John called a break and handed Ronon a cold water bottle. Ronon took off his gloves and gratefully swallowed the icy liquid.

"Makes you wanna be a giraffe, doesn't it?" John said, downing a swig himself. "Then you'd enjoy the sensation a lot longer." He knew he wouldn't have to field any questions here, they had watched several documentaries about wildlife on earth together.

Ronon grinned. "But just imagine how long you have to wait for the food to hit your stomach when you're hungry," he shot back.

John grinned right back at him. "Are you speaking from experience? I mean, were you hungry last night - finally?"

Ronon nodded. "Could have eaten a horse. Nothing like a workout to give you an appetite."

"Good for you. We'll make sure we keep it up," John promised.

"So we're gonna actually play today?" Ronon asked.

"Sure, if you want to." John spun around in one swift, precise motion. "The balls are over here behind this wall panel."

When he reached the indicated place and turned around, John noticed that Ronon was trying to imitate his move. He also noticed, that his friend had not put his gloves back on. Reaching far down the front and back of his two wheels, Ronon was getting ready to try a 360˚ turn.

"Wait!" John called out, "don't forget your…"

But it was too late. With a mighty heave, Ronon pulled on the wheels' guides. Unfortunately, his right hand was still moist from holding the dewy water bottle, and it slipped. The jerk on only the left wheel brought the chair around in an off-center arc, and it toppled over.

Cursing under his breath, John jumped from his own chair and ran over to where Ronon lay sprawled on the ground.

"Buddy? You okay?" Shep asked, as he knelt down next to his friend. Putting a hand on the Satedan's shoulder, he noticed that it was shaking, and when Ronon raised and turned his head to look at John, his eyes were wide with shock.

"You okay?" John repeated, feeling his heart sink. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Ronon blinked, and let his head drop down to the floor again. "I did," he said in a muffled voice.

"Where? Is it your back again?" John prompted, trying to quell the panic he felt rising inside him. "How bad is it?"

Ronon lifted his head again. "You don't understand," he said in a choked voice. "I banged my knee against the floor. And it hurt!"


	6. Epilogue

AN: Okay, here it is - the final chapter. Thanks to all of you who've R&R'ed, it means a lot to me. And it motivates me to keep writing grins. 'See' you next time!

Epilogue

Teeth clenched, brow furrowed in concentration Ronon inched forward between the two horizontal bars. Every step was painfully slow, and almost his whole weight rested on his arms. But there was no doubt about it that his legs were moving, that he was in fact walking.

When he reached the end, everybody in the room clapped and cheered. John had 'organized' a bottle of champagne, that he now opened with a flourish and a loud pop. Jennifer brought a tray with glasses, and they all gathered around Ronon who had dropped into his wheelchair.

As it was the custom among Teyla's people, they passed around an empty goblet, each of them pouring a small amount of liquid from his own glass into it as they proposed a toast.

"To a complete recovery," Jennifer said, handing the now no longer empty vessel to Rodney.

"To brawn that can equal brain," Rodney smirked, adding his share to the goblet and passing it on to Teyla.

"To strength of body, and strength of mind," Teyla said with a smile, almost completely emptying her own glass into the goblet and handing it to John.

"To the one sport where I can kick your ass," John proposed, letting a bit from his own glass trickle into the almost brimming goblet. They drank, Teyla barely touching the champagne with her lips, which earned her an appreciative nod from Dr. Keller. Then Shep offered the goblet to his Satedan friend for the final toast.

Ronon took it, and looked up into the beaming faces of his friends. Jennifer's wide grin, Teyla's radiant smile, Rodney's crooked smirk, and the twinkle in Shep's eyes. There was so much he wanted to say, but words failed him. He knew very well that he would not have pulled through this ordeal without their combined efforts and individual support. And he realized that this is what made his team so special. Combined, their oh-so-diverse backgrounds, talents and personalities made up a special entity, where the total was more than the sum of the parts. 1 1 1 1 truly equaled a lot more than 4 in their case. Really, so much he should tell them...

Glad that it was only a toast they were expecting from him, Ronon raised his glass.

"To the best team anybody's ever had - thank you all!" he said finally, and downed the contents of the goblet to the last drop.


End file.
